


In sickness and in health

by elletromil



Category: The Exorcist (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 01:49:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13560117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elletromil/pseuds/elletromil
Summary: Marcus is sick and miserable, but for once, there's somebody to take care of him.





	In sickness and in health

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InsaneRedDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneRedDragon/gifts).



> This is for my darling Red just because she deserves all the nice things.
> 
> So I haven't seen season 2 yet, so I'm sure this can't fit in canon, but whatever. All fandoms need more hurt/comfort no matter what :)
> 
> This could be in the same verse as my last fic "Intimacy" but would be happening before this one. Though it's really up to you if you want to think the two are related or not ;)

Everything hurts, even breathing, and Marcus wonders if this is it, this is how he dies.

Not because of an exorcism gone wrong, but because of a simple cold that turned into what he is sure is the plague.

Maybe that’s the devil’s new plan to bring forth the end of humanity? He could easily imagine some poor soul being fooled into making a deal to escape this torment.

Not that  _he_  would. If this is God’s punishment for his sins, he’s going to bear it with all the dignity he has left. Which is just enough to keep him from whining in pain and despair as he burrows further down into the blankets, his body shaking from the unnatural cold of sickness.

More than the soreness of his limbs, it’s the cold that he finds hard to stand. He would go for a bath, but even the thought of crossing that small distance leaves him entirely exhausted.

And anyway, what he truly wants is the comfort of a warm body against him, strong arms keeping him safe until he’s back on his feet.

A foolish dream, he knows.

Even if he wasn’t at church, Tomas wouldn’t climb into bed with him. Maybe if Marcus asked, but his pride simply won’t let him. That and the fear of rejection.

Not that he would ask Tomas to renounce his vows, not when he’s finally made peace with himself and God, he loves him too much for that. But he wishes he could at least tell him that no matter what happens, Marcus will stand by him, that he’s the only person he’s ever felt deserved his devotion besides God himself.

He startles when the door to his room open, his hand fumbling for something,  _anything_ , to defend him against what is surely a demonic intruder. However, Tomas’ whisper stops him before he can throw a pillow at the figure standing in the doorway.

“Marcus, are you awake?”

It sends his mind reeling for a moment, because the only way Tomas could really be there is if he’s lost his grip on time and quite possibly reality too. Maybe it is truly a demon, here to tempt him into eternal damnation?

“You’re supposed to be at church,” his voice croaks horribly, unrecognizable even to his own ears.

“I cannot in good conscience be there today.” Now knowing that he is already awake, Tomas steps into the room, and now that he can the worry in his eyes, Marcus cannot believe he could have thought him a demon. “I wouldn’t want to pass this cold to any of my parishioners.”

“You’re not sick.”

“No, I’m not. But after today, I’m sure I will be.“

The cryptic words don’t stay cryptic for long as Tomas slides under the blankets with him, completely ignoring Marcus’ protests as he lies down at his side, his arm coming around his waist. His hand feels so warm against his stomach even through the layer of clothing and Marcus wants nothing more but to get closer still, but he keeps his resolve. There is no way he’ll let Tomas get sick on his behalf. No way.

He would have had better luck however if Tomas hadn’t felt just how cold he was.

“But you’re absolutely freezing!” He’s not finished talking that he’s drawing Marcus closer to his chest, his other hand coming up to cup the back of his head, fingers carding gently through his hair.

“Don’t-” he starts only to be cut off before he can even figure out what he was attempting to say.

“No Marcus, this is not up to discussion. I’m taking care of you until you get better. I won’t leave you alone, not when you need me.”

It would be easier to protest if only Tomas wasn’t so warm, but he  _is_  and Marcus feels himself relaxing against his will. But he’s just so  _tired_  and with Tomas right here, he knows that nothing could get at him in his feverish state.

Still, he tries once more to push back.

“You’ll get sick.”

“Probably,” Tomas says simply, tightening his hold around him. “But if I do, you’ll be there with me, won’t you?”

Marcus doesn’t answer him, because he doesn’t  _need_  to. It seems that somehow, Tomas knows already.

Too fast for him to react, Tomas leans closer to place a tender kiss on his forehead and Marcus can only closes his eyes, feeling like he could weep at the contact.

“Sleep now Marcus. You need to rest.”

He can only nod and slide just that tiny bit closer to Tomas, his fingers clinging to his shirt. But it’s only when Tomas starts softly praying, that he allows himself to let go of consciousness, the cadence of Tomas’ voice lulling him into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
